Naero's War: The Citation Series 2: The High Crusade

by Mason Elliott

  Was it Om? He was still inside her somewhere. He had not emerged again either.

  “Take your place at the center of us once more. Face me again.”

  Naero did so, resisting an urge to massage several bruises.

  Klyne positioned himself directly in front of her, sitting lotus fashion just like her and the others.

  “I’m going to attempt to merge directly with your mind telepathically, one of my gifts. I’m also an Auralcognitor. Once I link with your mind, I can sense any type of psyonic energy field you might have, active, passive, or latent. I might even be able to trigger or bring them out to the surface. There might be some discomfort. Shall we proceed?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do as I do. I will show you how to place your hands to effect the mind merge.”

  Klyne cupped his left hand firmly behind the base of her skull.

  Naero followed his lead.

  He placed the fingers of his right hand on precise spots on her face.

  Thumb on her forehead, directly between her eyes.

  Index finger on her left temple.

  The next two fingers curled slightly in front of her left ear. His smallest finger hooked at the point of her ear and jaw.

  As soon as Naero placed her right hand the same way, she gasped slightly.

  Thin hairs of what felt like burning hot energy threaded their way slowly through the layers of her awareness.

  She could feel Klyne connecting with her thoughts, joining their two minds.

  The dull ache continued to grow.

  “You should be feeling the initial discomfort. Hold still. Keep focusing. Almost there. Almost…”

  A spike of pure agony exploded within her skull.

  Naero screamed, transfixed as if by lightning.

  Through the torment, a voice awoke in her mind full-force.

  Protocols unlocked and engaged. We…are.

  Interface…partial.

  Om awoke, reacting instinctively with fear and vast power.

  Threat detected…Protect all access.

  Neural net…INTRUSION. UNWARRANTED.

  LEVEL 1.359 DEFENSIVE RESPONSE.

  An intense blast wave of white-hot psyonic energy fanned out rapidly from the epicenter of her immolated mind.

  Naero continued to scream.

  As if far away in the distance, Klyne and his two adepts also shrieked.

  *

  Naero blinked, her eyes and mouth frozen open.

  She lay with her head to one side, in a puddle of her own mixed blood and spittle.

  More pain struck her when she attempted to move.

  Blood continued to stream from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth–a bloody mess.

  It felt as if a fusion grenade had blown her head open.

  She reached up with her hands, to make sure her skull was still intact.

  Some kind of noise.

  Warning alarms sounded.

  A ship. Yes, they were on a ship. The Spacer Intel Ship The Kathmandu. She was…being tested, for the Mystics.

  Something had gone terribly wrong.

  Naero focused, getting to her hands and knees.

  She heard other voices, groaning and whimpering.

  Makita lay sprawled in a broken tangle, blasted across the room. His gray clothing had been shredded and scorched into tatters. He choked and coughed.

  To the other side, Iselle fared little better. She lay convulsing, blasted, scorched, a yellow-white bone of her forearm sticking out of her wrenched flesh. One side of her face was blistered, her red hair burned, some of it still smoking. She trembled and shuddered in pain and terror.

  Naero looked around for Klyne, and found the instructor in a burned, bloody heap, lying beneath a dark red smear on the far wall. His hands were charred black, and he was missing fingers.

  Naero could not walk. She couldn’t even stand. She crawled to Klyne as quickly as she could.

  He still lived, just barely.

  Then she noticed the intense effects of the blast, all around the room, less than a meter up.

  A massive expanding ring of Cosmic force had sliced into the duranadium hull of the smartwalls, punching a deep crease right through them where they buckled, all along its full diameter.

  The force of the strike disrupted all systems. The entire training room was compacted, crushed, and heavily damaged.

  Rescuers struggled to force their way through the various ruined doors and access panels.

  (Naero’s Gambit Amazon Link: http://amzn.to/1lx5Tyy)

  Please enjoy the following teaser from the next Spacer Clans Adventure, Book 3: NAERO’S

  FURY

  Naero’s

  Fury

  Amazon Link to Naero’s Fury: http://amzn.to/1hLrPpO

  by Mason Elliott

  Naero still hadn’t done it much, but going into a direct trance to enter the Astral Plane shouldn’t be all that difficult. Master Vane had shown her how once. And she had gone there lots of times in her sleep, in her mind, to speak with Khai, using their astral crystals.

  Before her friend Khai had vanished without a trace.

  Yet she had never been completely trained in astral travel, and didn’t know that much about exploring or moving around. Master Vane had taken her there once, just to teach her the basics and give her his marker. Many other times later to spar with her.

  If nothing else, she could probably focus on his marker and locate him.

  Zhen had roused Naero and reminded her it was time. And that she and Shalaen would monitor her while she was in the astral trance.

  Naero focused her mind and abilities, controlling her breathing. Remembering the little she had recently learned.

  Within several minutes of focused meditation, she open her eyes and found herself floating in the Astral Miasma, the nebulae of energy. She hugged her knees to her chest in her astral form.

  Om spoke to her, even more easily here than in her own mind before.

  I have accessed some of the Kexxian Matrix’s data files on The Astral Plane. Like everything else, they explored it quite extensively.

  Om, I’m naked here. I’m not complaining–but just tell me–how do I put astral clothing on again?

  You control everything here by imagination, and force of will. Concentrate on your favorite clothing and they’ll appear.

  That’s easy.

  She looked down and saw her favorite Nytex flight togs, programmed just the way she liked them.

  Naero blinked, spinning and twirling in one spot, turning upside down.

  Why can’t I move more than a meter at a time in front of us?

  You’re not used to this reality. So it’s not clear to you.

  The air around her looked opaque. Not mist. Not smoke or vapor. And it glowed slightly with its own bluish-gray light.

  In the twilight she glowed softly blue-white with her own light. From within.

  “I once heard rumors that the Mystics could travel and send messages this way, but I thought it was all just a myth.”

  Since the other planes are entire universes within themselves, it is said, they are all nearly infinite. Thus, it is difficult to pin point any kind of location or person unless you already know them.

  Naero instinctively tried to stand up, but there was nothing to stand on.

  Then she recalled Master Vane’s Marker, and it appeared right before her. Where she found him, she would find the other High Masters.

  At least she deserved a chance to be heard by them all. To try to explain herself and her actions. What happened with the obelisk was clearly not her fault.

  But they would still blame her for it–especially Mater Vane, who seemed to blame her for everything since Hashiko’s death.

  Naero could not simply stand by and let the High Masters decide her fate without herself being present at her trial, in some way at least.

  She focused on the crimson and black star more and swept forward, seemingly at great speed.

  She came to an abrup
t halt, like a starship coming out of jump at its destination.

  The opacity around her partially melted away. She proceeded forward, opening her visual field far wider. She made out the area around her as the miasma peeled back.

  Slightly below her, she saw spheres within glowing spheres, all spinning within greater spheres.

  Her own sphere, glowing white-blue, suddenly surrounded her like a glittering soap bubble.

  Yet it did not pop when she poked at it.

  One sphere in particular, the largest, glowed and pulsed blood red, containing a withered old man with a long beard, pacing impatiently.

  Burning eyes vanished and re-appeared at random all over his bald head. The red sphere absorbed Master Vane’s marker.

  Was this his true form? What he really looked like?

  His scarlet sphere was also flanked by two smaller spheres with figures inside them.

  Om made a calculated guess.

  His current guardian adepts, no doubt. The ones you rescued from the enemy Darkforce generators on Janosha.

  I think so, Om.

  At most times, every High Master had at least two champion adepts protecting him or her, each of them very close to mastery themselves. Just as Hashiko had been.

  Naero studied Vane’s new guardians for the very first time, and tried to see into their spheres.

  Something about each of them did seem strangely familiar.

  One of Vane’s adepts, the male, appeared to be so deep dark black, he could be a singularity. This adept’s sphere was flat black on the surface and barely transparent.

  If Naero had been able to breathe, she would have gasped.

  Instead she simply raised her hand to her mouth.

  She recalled that she had seen many of these adepts long before.

  In her dreams, nightmares, and crazed visions. Perhaps even on the Astral Plane somehow.

  Vane’s other adept was the white female, the exact opposite of the other. So brilliant and blindingly radiant, she could be a pulsar. Her orb was like a high intensity bulb, blinding and almost completely crystal clear.

  It occurred to Naero that during her initial testing, Klyne had male and female assistants as well.

  She couldn’t guess what the significance of that pattern was all about. Perhaps just some weird Mystic, egalitarian tradition.

  Then why weren’t any of the High Masters female?

  Everyone seemed to ignore her where she floated.

  The next larger sphere, farther away, glowed silver-blue.

  If she focused intently on it, she discovered she could zoom in with her third eye–her mind’s eye.

  Within that silver-blue sphere, a silver man sat serenely, neither young nor old. Master Tree, in his purest form of order.

  Two smaller guardian spheres flanked him.

  Master Tree’s female adept glowed with intense blue energy in a deep blue sphere.

  The male likewise glowed with vibrant green force within a green sphere, a shining sword sheathed down his broad, athletic back. He seemed very familiar somehow.

  Naero did a double-take. Long blond hair. Green skin. Big glowing sword.

  Yep. In the flesh–or–astral form at least.

  It was Khai! She was sure of it. He was alive.

  Had he actually succeeded in his great task of forging his mystic sword in the heart of a gigantic pulsar? Was that it on his back?

  Naero gasped again. Now that she knew what he looked like, Khai was also the dreamy green hunk from many past, pent up nightmares. The one who kept sticking his astral sword through her head.

  What did it all mean? She wasn’t nuts enough yet?

  Now she knew for certain she needed serious help.

  And to do some serious dating at some point, once-and-for-all.

  If the Mystics continued to let her live.

  Khai must have sensed her inner turmoil, or thoughts, or maybe just her concentration on him.

  Mr. Green-god even glanced her way for a second, looking just as confused and puzzled by her sudden appearance.

  Neither of them had ever met the other in person.

  Naero covered her face with one hand and looked aside, withdrawing her sphere suddenly further away.

  How fricking embarrassing.

  She crept forward again. Slowly.

  The third and final sphere glowed golden, and contained an equally golden child within, energetic and bristling with lightning. He bounced back and forth inside like a gigantic electron.

  Master Jo of course.

  Two flanking spheres.

  One of his adepts had no clear form, eyes gleaming within a shifting, flickering miasma like the Astral Plane itself. His female counterpart shifted shape from one fantastic creature to another.

  When she suddenly made out their voices, she could sense that an intense debate had been doing on. One that still continued.

  “We cannot be certain in this matter,” the golden child insisted. “We do not dare act in any rash way.”

  “Agreed, High Master Jo,” the serene silver man added. “She might yet be another Trickster from what I can tell.”

  “Yes. Quite possible, High Master Tree.”

  The old man in the blood red sphere blustered impatiently. “Fools! Always conspiring against me. Taking positions opposite of mine for no reason but to anger me. I’ve been telling you all along, this child is clearly the Great Destroyer–long foretold. Our duty is clear. She is a threat to all existence. To multiple dimensions. She must be eliminated, at once, before she can grow even more powerful.”

  “High Master Vane,” Tree said. “None of us can be sure of that fact. Including you.”

  “I am.”

  “You are always certain when it comes to destroying someone,” Jo added. “Your pure Chaos answer to everything. Destruction or Creation.”

  “It works.”

  “No. It doesn’t. It only delays and worsens the inevitable,” Tree said. “The Universe shall have its way. We all know this. You were mistaken with the last savant when he appeared, and now he remains at large–a renegade beyond even our control.”

  Baeven? We’re they referring to her uncle?

  Vane rolled his eyes. “Idiots! The Renegade is the Trickster, I say. This child must in fact be the Great Destroyer. Just look at the powers roiling within her. They will surely corrupt and overwhelm her entirely and drive her mad in the end. She will go berserk on a scale that makes her recent outbursts feeble and puny by comparison. She must perish now, while we have a chance to put an end to her. While the only crimes she has committed include destroying an entire planet, and another of the vital obelisks!”

  “We still don’t understand the purpose of the ancient obelisks. And we’ve studied the mysterious disappearance of Janosha, and we still cannot be certain in any conclusive way, that she had anything to do with it.”

  “Really? Who else could it be then? Planets like Janosha aren’t in the habit of just obliterating themselves suddenly for no reason at all. Everywhere she goes, destruction follows!”

  I cannot allow this.

  Quiet, Om. Don’t do anything. I’m trying to listen.

  Naero…they’re discussing our destruction. The Chaos Master means to destroy us.

  Master Jo continued to protest. “You can’t just kill off every entity that manifests Cosmic Abilities such as these. Our universe is peppered with them. We must continue to locate and guide them–not find excuses to execute them. Like the Others have told us, Tricksters often appear to oppose Great Destroyers. Without the former, final victory is never possible. “

  “High Masters,” Tree said. “This young woman also possesses the Kexxian Data Matrix. We cannot destroy her without destroying it. Intel and The Spacer Council of Elders value our wisdom, but even they would not agree to such action.”

  “Regrettable,” Vane said. “Yet I cannot take the risk. I have decided this matter on my own.”

  “You have no such authority on your own,” Tree insis
ted.

  “Idiots! I cannot stand by and allow our galaxy–perhaps our entire universe to be destroyed–just to satisfy your foolish, philosophical, and theoretical whims.”

  Master Vane turned to his adepts. “My finest students, obey me. Delay these fools. Keep them occupied whilst I act for the good of all existence.”

  More rapid than thought, the male dark ensnared the blue sphere and its satellites in coils and tendrils of darkness. While the bright female enveloped the golden sphere and its companions in waves of of pure light.

  Naero tried to pull away, but in her panic she did not know where to go.

  High Master Vane sped straight at her with impossible speed.

  I must act, Naero.

  No, Om. Please, this is already bad enough. Don’t do anything.

  I cannot comply. I must defend us!

  Naero went down on her hands and knees before Master Vane. She called out, using the voice to project her words.

  “Please, Master Vane. Do not attack me. I only wish to be trained to control my abilities. I have struggled hard to do so. I still don’t understand what happened with the obelisk.”

  Vane bore down on her, arcs of pure scarlet energy bristling around him.

  “Far too late for that, monster. Nothing is ever your fault, is it? Now, you must perish for the good of all. I told you this hour would come.”

  Instinctively, Naero drew back again, trying to evade his attack. She rose within her receding sphere.

  Vane closed in once more, gathering his powers.

  “Don’t do this,” Naero begged. “Please. Help me. I know I can’t fully control all of my abilities yet. I’m trying as hard as I can. I can’t be responsible for what will happen if you attack me. I can’t control myself.”

  “Yes, and look at the results? Countless lives crushed and eradicated. Janosha vaporized–an entire planet. You must never be allowed to reach your full potential. Now–monster–hold still and embrace your fate.”

  Naero put her hands out before her, holding her palms out defensively. Pleading.

  “No. Don’t. I can’t–”

  “I know, Maeris. You can’t help yourself. That is why you are an abomination!”

  Vane smashed into her, piercing all of her defenses as if they were shattering glass.